Chances
by Kildred
Summary: Every now and then, you get another.


It came as a surprise when the Headmaster approached him (as much as a portrait could approach anyone anyway) with the task. It seemed a given that Dumbledore had far more personal associates that he would decide to undertake this particular mission, until the specifics were meted out. Indeed, it seemed he was uniquely suited to the method of travel, and wasn't that a tear in the cloak! Teach them all to underestimate those around them.

There was a nagging bit of voice in the back of his head, asking why no one else was able to do this. He squashed it thoroughly. He was chosen, he was worthy, and he'd save them all! In a cloak-and-dagger sort of way. Which, now that he thought about it, wasn't really his forte. Well, he had a list to go by, and while his memory wasn't stellar, he was good enough to remember what was necessary.

What truly bothered him was how he was going to interact with the Potter boy. It wasn't just him, of course, that he had trouble with. Most children were unruly brats not worth the barest of attention, but his father was especially annoying while he was in school and magical children do inherit the oddest things from parents, and he wouldn't be the least bit surprised if pranking somehow became genetic.

He skulked around his quarters, nerves frayed from the mission in front of him. The importance couldn't be understated, and it didn't escape him how daunting such a thing could be. A tumbler of whiskey beforehand to settle his hands would no doubt help. After all, he was not accomplishing one but _two_ dreams! One of mankind, and one of his own! The consequences of failure need not be thought of, since it was blatantly obvious that the status quo was far worse. Exhaling shakily, he left for the headmaster's office.

* * *

"I trust I don't need to stress the importance of what we discussed?" If there was one thing anyone could hate Dumbledore for, it was how long-winded the man could be if he felt like it. Whether to amuse himself, to ensure you learned a lesson, or just to throw you off your game, the man was exceedingly talented at filling any and all silence. He peered down those half-moon glasses, waiting for a response.

"Of course not, Headmaster."

"Now, now. I am deceased, and no longer the headmaster. As with many of our young, and some not-so-young, graduates and contemporaries, I ask that you call me Albus."

"O-of course. Albus."

"Excellent. Now, we have discussed at length the topics you have brought up. Severus and I feel that you have good points, but they shouldn't affect things overtly, if you keep a steady hand. I must say, it does this old man some good to see you using that wonderful brain I always insisted you had." And the compliments. Always with the compliments, even if he was reprimanding you. This was truly an exercise in patience.

After a bit more planning of contingencies and such, a cough came from above. "Perhaps you should get going with this asinine idea of yours before someone discovers what you are doing?" Phineas had an acerbic tongue at the best of times.

"Yes, yes. Of course. Severus, if you would?" The Potions Master nodded briskly before handing me a vial of some sure to be disgusting but vital goo. Standing within the ritual circle, the runes lit with arcane energy as the chanting commenced. After quaffing the vial, he watched as Snape altered his magical energy and withdrew from his part in the ceremony. The magic flared as it was given reign once again over what it permeated. The air crackled as it rejoiced in this event before snapping...well, the best he could describe was 'slightly to the left'.

He disappeared.

* * *

Groaning, he pushed himself off the floor and took stock of the situation. Magic was kind enough to return him to his own room, avoiding awkward questions about waking up in strange areas, much less the headmaster's office. It seemed to be early in the morning, just in time for an owl to swoop in for the Daily Prophet delivery. Filthy rag. Still, it had its uses. Paying the bird, he took the paper and glanced at the date. Still a few days before term began. Excellent. He could still make it to the store.

* * *

And here he was again. This time, however, his core filled him with a sense of...completeness. Oh, how the magic rejoiced within him, and he shared in its jubilation. His new wand twirled in his fingers, begging to be used, but he would be patient. He had to be. Too much depended on him reigning in his knee-jerk reactions. This one, however, could be excused. He had to build up a rapport before anything could actually be done proper. Back to his job, then. Placing a hand on each boy's shoulders, he halted their stride and looked into their fearful eyes.

"Oh dear, we are in trouble..."

/

This looked so much longer as I was typing it...

I adore Peggy Sue fics. I apologize for nothing.


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